Vinyl's Birthday Surprise

I awoke in the dim lit room with her lying beside me on the bed. Light leaked out from behind the curtains. Morning had come. As every morning, I woke up before her. My biological clock stayed true and woke me up early for the day's activities. It was especially important to wake up early today. Thinking about what I am going to do kept me up last night, I was starting to get fearful that I wouldn’t wake up, but here I am now, awake and ready to go.

The room smelled musty from loose articles of dirty clothing laying around the floor. None of it mine, my lover simply does not know how to pick up after herself. Gently, I roll the covers off of me, careful not to stir my counterpart. I slip silently out of my blanket and off the bed. Slowly, I cruise my feet into my slippers and stand. I jitter as I approach the door, but keep myself moving slowly as to not wake my slumbering love boat. I am very nervous but also excited for what I have planned for her; I know she’s going to love it. I turn the knob and scooch out the room, carefully closing the door behind me.

Vinyl is going to be so pleased with the surprise I have for her. I’m going to make sure this is her best birthday. She’ll love me for this. Or love me more that is.  I creep down the hall past hanging photos of us, and family, and friends, until I arrive at the door to my music room. This room is very special to me, it’s where I keep all my instruments, and awards, and all relating to my career. Across from it is Vinyl’s music room, but I’m not really one for all her loud techno-y music. And it’s really more of a hobby for her than a career, but I can still admire how much of herself she puts into it.

The door creeks open as I enter my domain. Walking passed my cellos and awards, I think back on how reluctant I’ve been to try this. Vinyl really had tried to edge me on to do it, but I held onto my reservations. She eventually stopped asking. I sort of felt bad for denying her this, but I didn’t want it, not then at least. Now, after more time to think about it, I realize it’s not really as strange as it first appeared. It’s still private, nobody else will know what we’re doing. And there’s no real harm in it; she wants it, I’m going to give it to her. I just hope I’m doing it right.

I stroll by my framed photos of me performing and stop at a closet in the corner of the room. Pulling open the door, I look down and move a heap of clothes to reveal a box I’ve hidden there. I pick it up and heave it onto the table where my cello sits. I lift up its silky blue cover to reveal its contents.